Golden Treasure
by Silence-Darkness
Summary: In a time without Ganon, a hero has to find a way of living. Enter Link, treasure hunter! Follow Link's adventures as he plods along amidst a war that taxes a country and the politics that cripples it. Set after OoT and MM.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hmm… well, I've decided I've been too quiet for too long. Staying quiet is boring, since nothing happens that way. So, here's a new story, even though my old ones aren't quiet finished yet. This is meant to help encourage the creative juices to move, so hum. And with that, I welcome you my newest mash of ideas: **Golden Treasure**.

Chapter 1:

The moment after the victor struck the winning blow the guards flooded the arena and forcibly disarmed him. The crowd was too dazed from the sudden surge of armoured soldiers and agreeably stayed silent in the podiums. Shouting loudly, the would-be victor wrestled his way past one soldier, tripped another and was going to make a break for freedom before a ring of spears successfully surrounded him.

"Hey, what gives? I thought this was a friendly tournament-"

"You are accused of entering this tournament under a false name-"

"Alright, Bornibo Borbinos was bad taste but-"

"- under false pretence of claiming the prize-"

"I do want that prize! Seriously!"

"- and you are here accused of attempting to assassinate the Royal Family."

The would-be victor, who had been nervously eyeing the spears during that argument, turned to face the head soldier head on. The crowd "oohed" and "aahed" speculatively.

"_What_?"

The head soldier stared at him passively for a while before continuing to read out loud the rest of the charges. "Under our current War Decree, we are entitled to imprison you without additional evidence for a period of sixty days until further proof can be obtained for or against your crime." He smiled flatly. "You will of course have to serve an additional sentence of fifteen days for attempting to hide your identity."

The would-be victor sighed deeply and nodded. "I'm Link, if that helps me any," it didn't, "and could you please stop poking my backside with that thing? Next thing I know one of you will be asking me to bend over."

The guards didn't find that amusing. But with the crowd roaring in laughter ﾨC where the little children were told daddy will explain when you're older, sweetkins, just cover your ears ﾨC the guards skipped that part of their handcuffing procedure as they led him away.

The other finalist, still lying in the sand, groaned and struggled to get up. Well, better to lose to an idiot called Link than Bobobo Borborbos or whatever he called himself. In fact…

"I… win?" he croaked from the dirt.

The referees weren't sure. It wasn't everyday the champion was arrested.

-_s_-

Hyrule Castletown generally is a very pleasant place. The marketplace, central court and public gardens are clean and healthy, kept safe with the odd patrol watching for pickpockets or illegal salesmen. The residential districts range from opulent to compartmentalised, the upper class residents living closer to the centre and the working class satisfied with the low rent at the fringes.

Hyrule Castle is a grand symbol of economic achievement, religious piety and cultural wealth - but more importantly military superiority. It was both fort and palace, high walls both artistic and defensive, training grounds mixed with the palace courtyards, underground barracks shielding the castle in a ring of soldiers. It is said that one of the military tunnels connects to the mysterious Sheikah Caverns in far off Kakariko, the shadowy servants to the throne hidden protectors that would cut off any attempt that escapes through the obvious defence.

Hyrule Castle dungeons were boxy, moist and smelled like boiled socks. Located near the barracks, each cell consisted of two linen sheets as a bed, one bucket as a toilet and metre thick walls of granite plus enforced steel bars as containment. Link was certain it was underground, but he wasn't sure how deep under: going in involved being led through a maze of steps that went up as much as it went down.

It was certainly a disheartening place. The only light came from the jailer's lamp and cigarette, and he often left the room, taking his lamp with him - it wasn't so much negligence but more assurance no one could escape. The man in the cell to Link's left kept whimpering how he'll be a good citizen and won't sell faulty goods anymore.

"Haha," Link declared once the jailer left for the sixth time, "unknown to all, I have the keen eyesight of the bats and can see past this deep, deep darkness. And with only a fingernail as my tool I can pick through any lock that comes my way-"

"Bats are blind, you moron," a guard called from outside the jail room, "and these locks are sealed with magic." A light appeared as the guard popped his head in. "And you're facing the wrong direction if you want to find the lock." Chuckling, he closed the door once more - Link listened closely to the clicks and whirrs of gears shifting and spinning - and remarked, "If you want to plan an escape, next time don't shout it out loud."

A heavy duty door; as it clicked shut there was a faint clap as the mechanism locked itself. Link sighed. "This is what you get for saving a country," he murmured softly to himself.

Most seventeen year olds were helping at the family business or in apprenticeship. Link wondered if he was the first seventeen year old to be thrown into jail. Probably not, he decided, for even though Hyrule was fairly safe, it did have to deal with occasions of lawlessness.

"So," he turned to address the left wall, "what type of faulty products did you sell?"

He never got an answer. Just then the door opened again, and six soldiers marched in. One held onto the lock briefly, and Link could see the faint glow of magic unravelling - invisible to normal eyes, they probably never expected to hold mages in these dungeons - before the door opened. Gesturing to Link, the led him out and for questioning.

_-s-_

"Where were you born?"

"In Hyrule, somewhere to the south."

The interrogator stared flatly at the vague answer. "Where in the south?"

Link shrugged. "Where the trees grow?"

The interrogator snorted. "You're not making a good defence of not being a foreign assassin, you know. Who were your parents?"

"No clue?" Link tried to wipe his hair away from his face - it was really getting dirty, he needed to wash it soon - but the block manacle around his wrist made that difficult.

"… Initial guardian, then?"

"Saria."

"Last name?"

"No clue?"

The interrogator rubbed his head. Torturing potentially innocent suspects was considered bad form, but this brat was proving to be unnecessarily difficult.

"You know, if you want my opinion, you're not a foreign spy." The interrogator smiled thinly when Link blinked in surprise. He clasped his hands together and leaned forward slightly. "Foreign spies take time to be trained, and are generally much older than you look to be. While blonde hair is fairly rare in our country, you don't have the jet black hair common to the Devans, or the dark skin of the men of Shuwa. No one in their right minds would hire a youth to attack the Royal Family, especially through a public way such as the tournament you just participated in."

Link blinked again. "Thank you."

The interrogator waved it off. "Of course, there are still many questions you won't answer. Where you're from, who your parents are, where you learnt such sword skills and at such age-"

"The other finalist was only slightly older-" Link protested but was cut off.

"The other finalist was our Commanding General's son. You, on the other hand, are a conundrum. You say you have no fixed residence, you mention no family, you carry no documents, you provide no information." His eyes narrowed. "Dangerous."

Link sighed. "The prize of winning the tournament is one thousand rupees and a dinner with the Royal Family, right?" He waited for the interrogator to nod. "That's all I wanted. Doesn't wanting to see the royalty count as patriotism?"

The interrogator shrugged. "Yes, but we're in a time of war, and we can't just let anybody greet the King and Princess. Especially unidentified swordsmen."

Link's hair was really irritating him. Next time it wouldn't hurt to invest in a bit of twine. "Fine, then just give me the one thousand rupees and I'll be on my merry way…" He smiled and winked conspiratorially.

The interrogator sighed. He really hated dealing with this brat. "Alas, your charge of being a foreign assassin still stands. You'll have to wait sixty days for that charge to be cleared, unless you provide evidence against it."

Link slouched back into his chair, and yelped when it tilted over. With a thud his back smacked against the ground, accompanied by a soft thump as his head bounced off. "Ask Princess Zelda. Tell her that Link wants to talk about the story of the treasure of the Golden Land."

The interrogator rolled his eyes but noted it down nonetheless. What a silly boy to think that the Princess would even talk to him. He was going to enjoy a lonely sixty days in jail.

_-s-_

They scrubbed him and nearly drowned him in boiling water. Toothed contraptions clawed at his skull as foreign chemicals were forced into his mouth to coat his teeth and gums. Saws worked at his fingernails and more foreign chemicals were pasted onto his skin.

The standby beauticians had the duty of making one Link presentable enough for the appearance of one Princess Zelda. And he was the stinkiest, dirtiest, worst-kept creature they ever came across.

The brown tunic he had been wearing was apparently meant to be green. It took two hot washes and rapid dry treatment to get all that mud off. The head beautician clucked at it and decided no; the savage will have to wear the maroon silk suit they will provide. After forcing him into it - it was really hard ignoring his fashion ignorant comments of "I look like a bloody rhubarb, who in graces designed clothing to make people look like vegetables" - his hair was combed once more - he was nearly strangled after his comment "you don't need to share your baldness, shiny" -teeth flossed - "vhat typfe of toof fairy are yhu" - and, lastly, shoes assembled.

By the end they were grateful he made no comments about the shoes. Some of them nearly cried when he left tap dancing in those priceless clogs.

In the end the only indication that he was a prisoner was the escort of six guards accompanying him and the manacles still cuffing his wrists. Standing as tall as the tallest guard he strode with a regal bear, eyes focussed towards his goal down the corridor. His body message spoke of purpose, of contained power, and of an itch somewhere a bit too impolite to scratch in public.

They led him to a study room, guessing from the number of books that graced the shelves. Near the side was a long antique table with twelve chairs around it, and they pushed him into the smallest one with the back towards the door. Link stretched as he waited.

And waited.

The sun was on its descent and he was still waiting.

He glanced at the nearest guard. "She takes her sweet time, doesn't she?"

The guard grunted in disgust at the casual reference. "You wait upon the Princess, not the other way round."

Link would have continued the discussion when the guards suddenly stiffened into position. The Princess' arrival was introduced by the heavy march of another escort of guards down the marble corridor. He twisted around in time to see twelve guards file into the room before the Princess herself.

Despite seven years under the reign of Ganondorf with the dangerous food shortage and foul air Zelda had grown up to become a beautiful lady, but seven years of a proper diet and a clean environment showed the true beauty she was. Link smiled slightly sadly when she looked in his direction, but that smile was wiped away by his general cheer.

"So, the Princess does exist after all, and isn't a fairy tale to hide the King's impotence." He still smiled when the head guard clobbered him over the head for that insult.

Zelda looked at him uncertainly as she moved to the furthest seat opposite from Link. "And a good evening to you," she greeted at last.

Link nodded. "Isn't it kind of hard talking across this long table like this? And do we need so many guards in this room?" The six that led him plus the twelve that escorted her added to eighteen altogether, all armed and watching him warily.

She smiled lightly. "I apologise for this precaution. You stated you wanted to talk about the Golden Land?"

Link laughed and shook his head. "Nah, that was just a story to get you to come down here. I just need you to vouch against my sixty day prison sentence."

"_You dare!_" One guard roared before restraining himself. Turning slightly, he addressed Zelda, "Do you know him, my Princess?"

She looked at Link for a long time before shaking her head.

Link almost sighed. Of course. When time was sent back all the Sages were sent back to sleep, and with that, their memories of the future. Link was the only being that remembered that dystopia.

"That doesn't matter, future queenie, I'm just asking for your judgment." He smiled and let the same guard rant about addressing her as the Princess before continuing. "Do I look like an assassin to you?"

She looked surprised at this turn. "I don't believe this is my judgment to call-"

Link waved it off as best as he could with his restricted hands. "They think I won the tournament for the purpose of killing you, your family and your pet dog." He rolled his eyes at the guards. "I just want the reward money and the invitation for free fine dining. I'll admit I don't come across as the most outstanding of individuals, but do I look like a criminal?"

She chuckled. "No, no you do not, but it would be foolish to make a judgment on looks. I'm sorry, but I don't know you well enough to judge your character."

No, not anymore. Link bowed his head momentarily as she prepared to leave. "The war is straining the King's resources, isn't it."

Zelda paused in surprise, as did the guards. "What gave that idea?"

Link raised his head in memory. "To quote, 'the top sixteen contestants are given advanced entry into the Hylian Army'. It's a bloody invitation. Now, including all those army adverts that cover Castletown and Kakariko, it doesn't take too much to figure out that more men are needed. The Hylian Army is skilled and was never short on manpower before." He pointed out the window. "A bit of travelling shows that the King has hosted the same tournament with the same rules and rewards in the Gerudo, Zora and Goron regions."

He sighed. "You father has been quite the political bully, eh? When Ganondorf pledged his loyalty and then disappeared, it didn't take too long for your father to assimilate the Gerudo Kingdom those seven years ago, and then soon affirm the loyalty of the Zoras and the Gorons." He sighed and stood up. "And look at us now, at war with Deva and Shuwa. Just three years before there were countries between us and them, but they've been conquered too."

Link looked straight at Zelda. "No one hears the voices of the Goddesses anymore. They do not accept worship by sword and fire." He shook his head. "The Goddesses are angry. The treasure of the Golden Land is no longer a form of reward, but a tool of punishment."

Princess Zelda looked like she was going to ask questions but he shook his head. "It looks like you'll have to wait sixty days for an answer, hmm?" Standing, he allowed the guards to shift from their startled stupor before letting them escort him out.

As he walked past Zelda at the door, he nodded her direction and smiled.

_-s-_

Hallelujah, it worked! Link was performing the cancan in his cell as outside a guard was explaining the details of his release to the jailer. Had Princess Zelda shared with her father's expansionary ambitions, that trick of his would not have worked. Praise the high heavens for doubts!

As light filled the room he stilled immediately, lest anyone know of his excitement. Still, the jailor looked irked at the giant smile decorating his face. No one had the right to be that happy.

"Off you go then, got some lucky Royal pardon," he muttered sourly and unlocked the cell. Link hugged him around his giant potbelly and gave the fat of his three chins a happy jiggle before skipping away. The guard watched the procession stonily as he read out the terms of release, which Link nodded to agreeably but didn't pay a whit of attention to.

It wasn't long before he was escorted back to Castletown, garbed in his cleaned green tunic and breeches, the newest items in his inventory being the ugly rhubarb suit from two days earlier, an invitation to have dinner with the Royal family and a bank draft for one thousand rupees.

He quickly pawned off the suit and stuffed the two slips of paper into his fattened wallet. They probably expected him to attend dressed smart; hah for that. They probably expected him to attend that night; hah for that too. Rich folk can afford to wait one more day.

In all honesty, the fear of assassins was a legit one. A long while back there used to be a problem of small groups of Gerudo warriors sneaking all the way into the Palace grounds to attack the King, but they calmed down after special envoys were sent towards the Desert. The absorbed states were still bitter about the loss of sovereignty, and they probably did send assassins.

He was just walking down the alley minding his own business when he saw a distinctive ponytail of red hair slip around the corner. Sighing, he followed her towards the fringes of Castletown.

The streets got narrower as builders had tried to fit as many apartments into less space, and it wasn't long before he was weaving in between the laundry some tenants left hanging outside. He stood on a cat's tail which yowled at him, but ignoring that break in his secretiveness he followed her towards a warehouse.

"This is what, your sixth attempt to attack the throne?" Link called out to the large sacks of grain, "Don't you ever get tired of this? Give up and go home."

He tilted his head and allowed a throwing knife to sail harmlessly past and embed itself deep into a sack. Grained spilled out to scatter against the floor.

Ooh, her throws are getting stronger. Link knelt to grab a handful of grain. "Come on, Nabooru. I thought you thought Princess Zelda was a nice person."

It was as if she was summoned by the mention of her name. Link yelped as a wall of grain burst apart as the crazy woman charged her way through it. He twisted backwards to avoid the first swing at his head and had to do a complicated upside down crabwalk to dodge the follow up. Crazy Gerudo women always run around with a pair of swords.

"Why won't you _die_?" she snarled at Link as he continued to weave out of her attacks. A downward chop missed him, but tore through the sack on the other side.

"Because you love me and cherish me and want to keep me safe forever?" Link asked hopefully. Nabooru gave him a flat glare and renewed her assault, blades dancing in hypnotic patterns as they reached for his neck.

Link loved finding patterns. It made life that much easier. Dodging one thrust, instead of skipping backwards to avoid the following swing he jumped forwards instead. Nabooru didn't have much time to adjust as a handful of grain was thrown at her eyes. Her attack misguided, the only weapon she had left was the momentum of her attack as their bodies smashed together into the air.

Unfortunately, Link was a good twenty kilograms heavier than her. Much like the last time this happened, the moment his foot touched the ground he charged forward, body ramming her into a pile of deflated grain sacks.

"Sometimes I think you're just asking for a beating," Link commented casually. Nabooru's swords were thrown aside, and he was currently sitting cross legged on top of her back, acting the veritable mountain. She could only flop uselessly under his weight.

"Shut up," she grumbled, most of the previous heat in her voice gone, "you're too fast."

"I'm a bloody tornado with fifteen kilos of armour, I'm the god of light speed without," Link commented proudly from above. She snorted in repulsion and tried to buck him off.

"We seem to do this every odd day now. Don't you get tired?"

"Get off me."

"Now, you're a healthy twenty five year old lady that can do something a bit more productive than trying to kill the King." He paused for a thought. "Or me."

"Twenty two," she spat. "Get off me."

"I mean, you're the ambassador for the Gerudo tribes," Din knows why they picked a crazy impulsive witch like her, "and so you're meant to be here for goodwill talks, not assassination attempts. You make a lousy assassin."

She flopped one more time, and yielding he rolled off her. Patting her back, she glared when she felt the footprints embedded onto her vest. Grumbling at him, she went around to fetch her swords before disappearing for a moment. She reappeared carrying a roasted lamb shank and a basket of fruits, which he tossed in Link's direction.

"Free food!" he cheered delightedly as he snatched both before they would hit the ground. The meat was still warm; she must have smoked it recently. "See? Don't you love me and cherish me and want to keep me safe forever?"

Nabooru rolled her eyes and sat down opposite him. "You're the only nut who won't tell on an assassination plot for food." She glared at him. "And I wasn't planning on killing anyone today, just fighting for fun."

Nabooru hated losing to Link. While she wasn't the strongest among the Gerudo, she was still pretty damn strong. It made no sense to lose to a Hylian who claimed his profession was a bloody treasure hunter. The impertinent brat even asked for permission to go rob the Temple of the Colossus.

Speaking of fighting for fun, she smirked. "I heard you got thrown in jail for winning." Her smile widened at his irritated grunt. "Was it some breach of the rules? Forgot to enter wearing trousers? Deliberately took a leak in the middle of a fight? Farted loudly at the championship ceremony? Blew your nose on the Princess' dress?"

Link gave her a flat stare. "I'm hurt that you weren't watching. Some friend you are."

They weren't really friends. Their first meeting involved Nabooru crouched in a corner of the Palace rooftops and aiming a crossbow and Link making a very loud greeting, ruining her stealth. After a healthy chase by the palace guards Nabooru tried to kill Link. Him the smelly jerk that he was, he managed to steal a win with extensive use of Deku nuts and demanded a free dinner. The second meeting involved her tactical ambush of the King's Guard halted by Link falling out of the sky and on top of her. Another chase by the guards, another fight, and another free meal.

The same thing happened the following three times. Nabooru had the feeling that Link didn't take her assassination attempts seriously.

"Why'd you come out of jail so early?" Smelly jerk should have stayed in there forever. "Did it cost too much to feed you?"

Link fished through his wallet and flicked a laminated piece of paper at Nabooru. Folding out the creases she tried to read it. "Little princess likes me," Link answered through a mouth full of lamb, "bailed me out, now she buys me dinner. See, that's a real lady for you. Why can't you do that more often?"

Nabooru wasn't paying attention, her senses focussed on the invitation. "There isn't a name," she suddenly stated.

"Huh?"

"You name," she clarified, "it isn't written on it."

"Huh?"

A calculating gleam entered her eyes. "I'll buy you dinner, don't worry."

And then she was gone. Ran off with his ticket.

Link stared at the empty space in surprise. "What? Hey! Give that back!"

_-s-_

The guards looked at the ticket and then at the guest. The invitation looked authentic, if a bit crumpled. The guest didn't look like who they were expecting.

"Trust me, it's me," Link heaved deeply through his lungs. Damn Nabooru, making him chase her all over the place. "I'm Link, happy victor of your tournament."

From running through the streets to bouncing off rooftops his hair was a wreck. Chasing Nabooru through the gardens led to a few twigs and leaves and what suspiciously looked like bird droppings caught in his hair, and the dust and soot from the industrial sector turned his hair from blond to incredibly dirty blond. The same soot plastered his exposed skin and clothes, and from falling into the river once his breeches and boots were soaked and coated with mud.

And he stood hunched, glared like a maniac and breathed noisily. He didn't look quite like someone invited to meet the Royal Family.

"Crazy witch made me run to get it back," he mumbled before doubling over, "I think I have indigestion." He contorted his face in pain and farted loudly.

The guard returned the ticket to him. "I'm sorry, but you will have to look presentable before we can admit you."

Link glared up from his position and pushed the invitation back to the guard's hand. "I don't think you understand the pain involved in keeping this little piece of paper," he seethed, jabbing at the guard with a finger, "and so the sooner I can get rid of it, the better. Now, I realise I look like crap, smell like crap and do in fact have bird crap in my hair, but if you don't mind, I'd like to get this over with, hmm?"

The guard looked at his partner and sighed. Time to call the standby beautician team again.

_-s-_

Princess Zelda wasn't sure what to make of the tournament champion. The rumours fluttering among the maids were that he scared his way past the gate guards. The stylists and beauticians said that he was an absolute monster, a creature undeserving of civilisation. The guards themselves kept quiet.

Looking into the mirror she decided there was no need to wear makeup for this event. Father thought that this champion was a funny fellow, and thought that interacting with him would be a good experience for the other nobles.

"Are you attending as well, Impa?" Zelda called out. A light grunt of affirmation was heard from the corner.

"Of course. After the past two assassination attempts, we can't be careless with your life, Zelda."

She sighed. After the guards managed to chase away an assassin with a crossbow the first time, the number of escorts she had increased from the standard two to a dozen. The second one had been more serious, with a Shuwan female masquerading as a Gerudo and approaching close. If it wasn't for the goodwill ambassador Nabooru falling on top of her (although there were questions on what she was doing on the roof at that time and swearing at ink of all things), none of the guards would have been capable to defend Zelda against the poisoned dart.

With a sigh she put on her earrings and left the vanity table. She patted her dress to make sure that the defensive knife Impa insisted she carry was hidden.

Zelda hated greeting the nobles. Oh, there were a few good ones, but most of them were pompous asses with the hunger from territorial expansion filling their eyes. The worst was the duke of the new southern provinces. That man deserves to be hanged.

She nodded to her personal guards and waited for them to create the protective ring around her before continuing down the hallways. Arriving at the banquet hall, she took a deep breath, twisted her lips into the needed fake smile, and pushed open the doors.

There were the nobles, and her father of course, but what was apparently catching everyone's attention was the juggling feat the guest Link was performing with knives. Her father laughed in good spirits as Link added a complicated twist, letting the blades dance around his body like flowing ribbons as they arced over his shoulders and waist. Seeing her enter, he wriggled his eyebrows before snapping all the knives up in one hand and passing them over to the closest servant.

"A fine display, good Link!" the King clapped in appreciation, leading the light applause from the other nobles, "life would be more entertaining if the fellows around here would bother learning skills like that." The applause immediately gave way to nervous laughter. The king turned around and noticed Zelda enter. "Ah, my daughter! Come, you will find this guest of ours the most pleasant of company!"

Link turned to face her and wriggled his eyebrows. A waiter ran up to whisper into his ear, and his eyes immediately lighted up before performing a bow. As she approached in greeting he smiled lightly.

"Good to meet you again, Zelda," he greeted softly.

Sitting next to the guest Link was an uncomfortable experience. Whenever their eyes met he had the "I know something you don't" look, a look that made her feel unpleasantly ignorant. He seemed to treat the world around him as some sort of game, his eyes lighting with amusement no matter the words spoken or the actions done.

The legend of the Golden Land was an obscure one. She needed to find out how he learnt of something where the only texts exist in the Palace libraries.

The only problem was that she didn't want this discussion to be shared among the nobles. And with her father there, the current discussion was monopolised in his direction.

"Treasure hunter, eh?" the King mused over that profession as he sipped his wine. "You say you've helped the Gorons regain one of their historical relics from Death Mountain?"

Link smiled. "You can ask Darunia to confirm it."

The King laughed and clapped Link heartily on the back, but Zelda frowned. To the best of her knowledge no Hylian received a pass allowing them to cross the border security in the past twenty years.

"And so what's your new plan of action, treasure hunter?" one of the nobles called from his seat.

"I thought I had permission to enter the Gerudo lands and hunt for something there, but the last time I tried they threw me out." He shrugged. "Guess I got to try harder."

He took a bite of his food and frowned. "I hate to surprise anybody," he proclaimed loudly, "but you might want to avoid the mint gravy." He took a look at the colouring lathering nearly everybody's food. "It's drugged."

The first response didn't come from the dinner guests; they were all sitting blankly uncertain whether he was stating a joke or not.

The first response came as a throwing knife hurtling towards Princess Zelda.

Link swore loudly when he snatched it out of the air.

The guards positioned at the windows had no chance. Glass shattered. Short spears skewered armour. Cloaked beings swung through the broken windows, long curved knives seeking the throats of the soldiers that were still breathing.

Link was too busy catching throwing knives.

He yelped when he kicked aside a thrown spear.

Assassins. Twenty of them. And only fifteen guards standing.

Someone was screaming the alarm. Link paid no attention to the nobles diving under the table, but he did take note of the defensive crescent formation the remaining guards took.

The assassins had their faces masked, but the distinctive black hair marked them as Devans. Link nearly whistled appreciably at the weapons they carried: some had crossbows slung across their back, but all of them wielded a single edged sword and a knife as a pair.

"You know what the problem of being alive is?" Link suddenly called out, attracting the assassins' attention. He stood on the table and flipped the three throwing knives he caught casually. "You fear death."

With a leap he crossed the ring of guards and smashed bodily into one Devan. One hand grabbing the enemy's head, Link shoved downwards and smacked the skull against the floor.

Hidden among the shrieks of the nobles, the furious roar of the assassins and rallying cries of the guards was an amused laugh. Weaving between the knives and swords that followed him, Link laughed.

He skipped to press his back against one opponent. Foot extended, the opponent fell and had his skull knocked against the floor.

Two down.

Link flicked out one throwing knife. It flew badly, and the handle slapped the assassin's face. Good enough. Link shot a palm to the gut and charged him into his partner behind. Link kept on dashing until both of them smashed against a support column.

Three down. Four down.

The fifth assassin was surprised when Link hooked his fingers to grab the sword from the blunt side and twisted it free. A stomp to the knee was followed by a snap kick to the gut and knee to the chin.

Five down. There, fifteen against fifteen.

With the element of surprise gone the professionalism of the King's Guard decimated the foreign assassins. Sharp swords and knives did little against the steel Hylian shield and the clubbing power of the longsword.

Link looked around the room. "I believe we're missing one person." He flipped a throwing knife. "I've got a gift to return, o buddy o mine."

He twisted and threw the second knife. Its arc through the air was cut short as it slapped against a knife flying towards Link.

The third knife flew true. The man in the waiter's costume released a brief shout as the knife wedged into his ankle.

Seeing Link approach slowly, the last assassin scrabbled back frantically before drawing out another knife. As the guards surrounded, he swung it deep…

… into his own heart.

Link blinked. "Could have taken poison. All he had to do was drink the mint gravy."

The nobles were still cowering beneath the table. Link didn't know whether it was some foolish courage or paralysing fear that had kept Princess Zelda and the King still sitting in their seats.

_-s-_

"You don't make a lot of friends in this profession, eh?" Link winced as the Royal Family's doctor bandaged his palms. Catching throwing knives was one of the dumbest things to do, although Link mentally noted to thank Nabooru for the practice.

The palace chemists had done some fancy analysis on the gravy and determined that Link was correct in calling it drugged, but the drug's purpose was to cause drowsiness. Link guessed that it would have made more of a spectacle to have assassins waltz in, kill the sleepy target and waltz out as opposed to the target dropping dead suddenly.

"This is the third attempt on my life," Zelda sighed. Life was beautiful before the war; no additional need for soldiers, no greedy nobles, no assassination attempts. It was tragic how she could almost understand the assassins in their cause.

The five assassins Link managed to defeat alive had poisoned pills hidden in their teeth. Including the fake waiter - a Hylian, which was most disturbing ﾨ- there were none alive for questioning.

"Seventh," Link corrected.

"What?"

"Seventh attempt on your life, but most of them were done by the same person." Looking at her horrified look, he placated, "don't worry, Na- she's relatively harmless, you'd probably like her if you got to know her."

Zelda hated that all-knowing look of his. "How do you-"

"What's more worrying," Link cut in loudly, "is the most recent attempt. Wow, if I wasn't there, they probably would have succeeded." He thanked the doctor before the doctor left the room. Turning back to Zelda, he pointed in the direction of the dining room and continued, "Don't you find it strange that twenty Devans managed to sneak past all the heavy watch protecting the palace? One or two I can see slipping through by stealth, but twenty is pushing it."

He wriggled the fingers of his bandaged hand. "Coupled with the Hylian assassin, someone's helping them get in. The Devans want you dead, granted, but now a Hylian also wants you dead." His smile wasn't comforting. "Cheerful friends you have."

Zelda was close to asking him why, but that infuriating gaze of his made her bite back the question. No, while the Devans would have taken a shot at any royalty they could, they wanted her father dead. Assuming the Devans were working with the planted Hylian, that attempt was deliberately targeting her: memories of knives flashing through the air kept reminding her of that.

As the only child, the inheritance of the throne goes to her. With Hyrule expanding under her father's command, that throne was getting more and more coveted. Hyrule prior was already blessed by nature, but with the countries absorbed it was now rich in iron, salt and gold. If either Shuwa or Deva falls, then Hyrule would become politically the largest country on the continent.

If Zelda was dead, who would the country go to?

She didn't know.

Her smile made her feel sick. "Cheerful friends indeed."

They were back in the library, but this time they weren't sitting far opposite one another. Guards lined every shelf and wall, three posted to each window with two facing out and one facing in. Link didn't need to guess that there was someone attending to the door.

And there was also Impa. As Zelda dropped her head into her palms in weariness, Impa placed a calming palm on her shoulder.

Link sighed. The Zelda he knew was stronger than this. Then again, the Zelda he knew had a clear cut enemy, and with a title of 'King of Evil' it was easy to tell whether you were on the good or bad side.

"Well, you bought my bail for answers," Link shuffled his chair so that they were sitting face to face, "so it's time for your questions. What do you want to know?"

The first question that jumped to mind was for him to clarify his knowledge on the Golden Land. No, the guards looked impatient, and she could tell it wouldn't be long before someone threw him out. Better ask the question on the punishment of the Goddesses.

Instead, she asked, "Why are you so strong?"

And at once his face changed from lightly amused to nostalgic and sorrowful before returning to his usual mask, but weighed with a heavier happiness. He seemed to absorb her profile as she stared at him, his eyes tracing across her face with a withheld longing. Involuntarily his lips moved in answer, but he shook his head and inhaled.

"Because my profession requires it." He jerked his eyebrows up in joke. "Not very ladylike, but you can be a treasure hunter too. I bet I'll perform better with a rival, even if she's some coddled rich kid."

He leaned back, more relaxed now, but Zelda could tell his eyes were still tracing her face. She had the feeling that he was comparing it to some other image, some other memory.

The guard grunted at the insult thrown at her and declared visiting time was up, if he would like another appointment would he please register his name at the entrance but it would not be due for another week. Waving in understanding Link got up and approached the door, but he turned around looked deep into her eyes before leaving.

Impa played around with the idea of Zelda as a treasure hunter, but she was more intrigued by another matter. He may not have said it, but Impa read the words that danced across his lips, and Link's silent answer to Zelda's question was mysterious.

Because you made me so.

_-s-_

"A moment of your time, Link."

Link had an incredible feel of déjà vu, meeting Impa at the Castletown gate. He was almost expecting her to point towards Death Mountain and then disappear with a flash of a Deku nut.

But never mind with the memories. The assassin issue was a week ago. He managed to wrestle a Gerudo pass from Nabooru the day before - the "please, please, pretty please" method didn't work, the "but you stole my royal invite, it's only fair" method didn't work, the "just give it to me or I'll kick your sorry arse" method did, after he kicked her sorry arse - and he was off towards his next treasure stop when Impa stopped him before he stepped onto Hyrule Field.

"Eh, yes?"

"I'm sorry for the late introduction. I am Impa, the Princess' caretaker. We have been most impressed by your performance at the dinner, and would like to request your help in improving the protection of the Princess."

"Ah, that's nice, but I've got places to be, people to meet, busy, busy-"

Impa raised her palms to cut off his excuse. "I don't intend to chain you down to Castletown. My… nephew is also charged with the Princess' security, and I would like you to accept him as your apprentice as you follow your own journeys." Seeing his uncomprehending stare she added, "It is only for one season, and you will be duly rewarded."

Link took the large bag of rupees she extended automatically, but his attention was riveted to the new figure that appeared from behind Impa's large frame.

Funky Sheikah battle gear and cowl. Check.

Funky Sheikah eye symbol. Check.

Funky Sheikah red eyes. Check.

Girlish way of standing. Check. Real men cross their arms.

Hello Zelda, Link almost spurted out. Hello Sheik, then he remembered he wasn't meant to know her alter ego's name yet.

"Hello partner," Link greeted with a very broad grin.

He didn't expect her to take that treasure hunting idea of his seriously.

_-s-_

A/N: And voila, here's the first chapter. If you haven't figured it out already, this is set in a universe where when Link was sent back in time, and everyone forgot what happened in the future - think of this as a happier version of my oneshot **Remember****Me**.

Don't have much to say. Other than I hope you enjoyed this. Every time the exams roll around I start writing fiction. For non-fanfic authors out there, I recommend you guys to take up writing; it's incredibly soothing, if a bit wasteful of your time.

Cheers!

Silence-Darkness


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: There is something subliminally terrifying about writing in front of a computer. I mean, I always feel the urge to share my creations with the world electronically, but only when not in the face of electronics. Hmm…

This chapter underwent two revisions, to closer follow my mental list of story design principals and to make Link more like a goof and less like a jerk.

Chapter 2:

"Hey, hey, let's play a game!"

Lonlon Ranch didn't look much like a ranch, not anymore. In the distance there were still barns, grain silos and animal keeps, but Sheik's attention was caught with the more immediate presence of barracks and smithies nearby. Not too far away it looked like a group of men were working on making their horses more agreeable in committing to a cavalry charge.

In unison the horses decided not to gallop at the pumpkin targets and swerved to avoid the crudely assembled scarecrows. Their riders would have expressed their frustration if they weren't busy clinging on for dear life.

Sheik admired how the horses slowed to a trot and circled back to their starting positions. A few of the riders released their barnacle grips to slump lifelessly on the ground. The rest tried to repeat the process in hopes of better results.

Link stomped on the ground petulantly.

"Hey, hey, stop ignoring me!"

She managed to tear her eyes away from the second round of dismal failure to see Link flapping two wooden swords around.

"Oh. Sorry."

He smiled and tossed her one of the swords. "Alright, rules. If you get struck by a hit that would have drawn blood if these were real swords, you have to answer a question truthfully. Ready?"

Sheik readjusted her grip on the sword. She never held anything like this before. "Okay."

All too suddenly the three meters between Sheik and Link disappeared and Sheik stumbled back, rubbing a welt on her forearm.

Link grinned. "Your name, for starters."

Ah, right. Their route to Lonlon Ranch had been completed in near silence. Link had been too busy rolling the distance and she had been too busy trying to keep up. "I'm Sheik."

"Excellent, Sheik…" He mulled in thought for a moment before bopping her on the shoulder. "What's your favourite activity?"

Dancing, actually. "Um, reading."

Whack. "Favourite idol?"

"What?"

"Until you actually hit me, I'm the one asking questions, not you. You know, some singer bard or musician or someone."

"Oh. No one."

Link pouted at that answer. "You're boring." Immediately he lit up with a gleeful smile, swinging at her head. She blocked it and he flicked her at the elbow instead. "Which girl do you like?" He suddenly grew serious and stared at her intently. "You do like girls, right?"

As an afterthought, he whacked her again.

Inwardly Sheik cursed Impa. This was the most awkward disguise ever. "Ah, yeah." She answered with the first maiden she could think of. "Aura, my – um, Princess Zelda's maiden in waiting."

Link smiled broadly. It was unnerving how quickly he could change facial expressions. "Ooh, palace romance. Me like." He feinted high and nicked her at the hip. "How far did you get with this fair maiden?"

"Not very. Far, that is."

Link tsked in disappointment. He clipped her twice on the shoulder and grinned stupidly. "What is the raunchiest, sauciest fantasy you've had involving Aura? And I don't want any of your evasive two word answers this time."

It was amazing how quickly Sheik's defence improved.

_-S-_

This time Link took the opportunity to survey the changes to the ranch. Sheik wouldn't be providing a fight anymore; at some point she abandoned the practice sword and curled into a depressed little ball, the weakling.

Maybe he went too hard on her with the questions. Then again, Link would forever cherish her sputtered answer to what she thought a man's saucy fantasies would include.

She wasn't creative enough.

Hmm. There were a few more housing barracks than the last time he came by. Another smithy too, or maybe a bakery; a new chimney either way. Hmm. A new giant brass gong. A new face ringing said gong. Oh, look! A super long mess table loaded with food!

Link glanced back at the still huddled up Sheik. "Aw, come on buddy. If your auntie Impa ever asks me about your plans on ravishing every girl in Castletown, I'd tell her you'd be very gentlemanly when doing so." Sheik twitched. "Come on big guy, let's grab some food."

Sheik followed Link as he slipped through the wave of soldiers heading in the same direction. She stood awkwardly when he buttocked for himself some seating space at the table.

The displaced soldier looked at him strangely. "This table's for the soldiers. Who're you?"

"An uninvited guest, but the details aren't so important," he waved airily before turning to address Sheik. "Sit man, the food here never disappoints!"

"Link!" Someone bellowed from the distance. Sheik turned to see a portly balding man shuffling over to them. "Yeh shoulda told me you was comin' by, dropping in all unannounced an' all. Come, you sit with us! Malon an' I gots much to catch up on with you."

Link stood, smiling as the newcomer patted his back with a meaty hand. "Mr Talon, it's always good to come by. I brought a friend too, Mr Sheik over there."

Sheik resisted the habit of curtsying for a light bow. "It is an honour, Baron Talon."

Talon laughed as he grabbed both their shoulders to lead them to his table near the main house. "Shucks, no one calls me by that title. Ol' Talon's fine for a modest man o' me, no baronses needed here."

So, this was the man who singlehandedly created the largest agricultural basin in Hyrule; the man that held a near monopoly over all livestock trading and bred the finest horses outside the Gerudo Quarter; the man that earned thousands of rupees weekly in food agreements with the military; the man that held investments in the new wetlands farming projects.

Huh. She expected someone taller. His bristly moustache and guffawing laughs did a lot to hide the shrewd businessman within him.

"Yeh'll be having none o' that low grade food they serve there," Talon continued, "high grade ingredients, o' course, but food only gets so far when cooked for hundreds of mouths. Me daughter's been working with the cookbook recently, a masterpiece it is. If yeh gonna eat food, you gots to eat food with soul."

The girl sitting at the table rolled her eyes. "I'm afraid today's lunch is going to be pretty soulless, dad," she said, standing up, "it's the exact same thing we had yesterday." She stopped when she saw Link. "I'm not lending you more money," she stated evenly. She turned and smiled warmly at Sheik.

In contrast to Talon's black hair, Malon's hair was a deep red, drawing attention as her blue eyes held it. Sheik could see how with some light makeup and a new dress Malon could become the centre of attention in any ballroom. Sheik bowed lightly to her.

"Mr Stiffly here is Sheik, stop with the bowing," Link grunted, "and don't worry, I'm here to pay you back among other things." He grabbed a chair and sat down as Talon did. Hesitantly Sheik followed suit.

"It's nice to have some gentlemanly behaviour for a change," Malon glared at Link when he started sniggering, "Din knows that you're in short supply of manners."

Sheik didn't know how to go about describing eat lunch with this group. At regular intervals Link would say something silly, Malon would shoot it down, and before their discussion could get too heated Talon would burp. It was peculiarly rhythmic.

"Well, we know that the Zoras are incredibly dependent on the bark filters that only the Deku traders supply," Link's hushed whispers contrasted against his wildly gesticulating hands.

Malon tilted her head to avoid his flailing forked chicken. "Link, they are not going to marry their princess to a Deku Scrub."

"But she's been in tons of secret meetings with them!"

"There have only been two, and they're not secret. If you read the news, they're about extending the trade routes through the rivers, not marriage engagements."

"Ah, but the news _only_ talks of two meetings," Link grinned triumphantly, "but we don't know of all the other meetings because they were secret!"

As Malon raised a hand to rub her temples, Talon burped loudly and wiped away the bits stuck in his moustache. "Lovely meal, Malon, lovely meal. If yeh don't mind, I've got some business wi' Link here to discuss."

In perfect synchrony both men rose, slung arms over each other's shoulders and walked away hunched as they talked in excited whispers.

Malon passively watched them before glancing at Sheik. Sheik had a very delicate looking jaw. "It's nice to see a clean shaven face for a change. I've seen a lifetime's supply of beards and stubble, with all the soldiers here."

Sheik fought the urge to pull up her cowl. "Oh. Thank you."

Malon laughed lightly. "You're a quiet one, aren't you? Link's going to be noisy enough for the two of you, anyway." She looked to where Link and Talon huddled off to. They were engaged in some strange ritual dance. She turned back and placed a palm on Sheik's hand. "When you're with Link, can I ask a huge favour of you?"

It was hidden behind her usual irritation, but Sheik could see the honest concern Malon had for Link. "It would be my pleasure."

Malon smiled gratefully and leaned in a little. "Link has a serious gambling problem. There are days when he'll come by, carrying a year's work worth of rupees, but most of the time he stumbles in, mooches for a week and stumbles out. And then there are times when he's quiet and spends the days sitting on the rooftops."

She gestured to where Link was. The two men were frozen in posture, right arm at waist and left arm pointing resolutely to the distant horizon. "He's always his silly self, but there are times when you can see the exhaustion in his eyes."

"Do you know what Link does?"

Malon shrugged. "He says he's a treasure hunter, but I think that's his way of covering his gambling problem." She sighed and watched the two men can-can into the distance. "He's a really nice person, you know. All I wish is for him to settle down, get a job, and stop wandering. So please watch out for him."

Sheik didn't know how much Link was hiding from Malon. She seemed unaware of his prodigious strength and believed him to be a wandering bumpkin with an addiction. When Sheik placed her own hand on top of Malon's, it was almost painful seeing the amount of relief washing over Malon's face.

_-S-_

It wasn't too long ago that Talon and Link came to an agreement. Talon didn't feel secure having his daughter work in an environment filled with men. Link needed free lodging.

Talon had a house. Link had a sword. The conclusion was pretty straightforward.

The secret, Link confided to Sheik, was that he didn't use his sword.

"This here," he whispered, pointing to a small salve jar, "is some generic balm used to calm the mind. I bought it from one of the Castletown market stalls for fifteen rupees."

They were creeping along the corridors of the soldiers' barracks, and Sheik was amazed that the creaking from Link's exaggerated tiptoeing hadn't waken anyone up yet.

"And this here," he pulled out an incense pot, "is filled with the voodoo herbs that the Gerudo use for their trance ceremonies. I traded a jar of pickled cucumbers for a small pouch of this stuff."

Entering a room, he lit the incense pot – Sheik felt the small burst of magic leap from his fingertips – and placed it down on the floor. Immediately the room became silent as the soldiers' snores and shuffling quietened down to slow even breaths.

"I discovered this accidentally by dozing through one of their dance rituals and then finding myself robbed naked when I woke up," Link was unperturbed by his admission, "but the combination of medicine A and medicine B on a sleeping person leads to some interesting results."

He crouched next to the bed of the nearest soldier and wiped a little salve on the soldier's upper lip. Wiggling his eyebrows at Sheik, he bent down and whispered to the soldier, "What is your name?"

The silence broke as the soldier groaned and sighed out his answer. "Janus."

Link smiled. "Where do you hide your valuable possessions?"

"Floorboard. Bed."

Sheik nodded slowly. The two together worked like a truth serum. The palace alchemists spent thousands of rupees unsuccessfully trying to make one, and yet Link made it with chump change and a jar of pickles.

"Do you want a sandwich?"

"No."

"Do you want another pillow?"

"No."

"Do you want Malon?"

"Yes."

Link rubbed his hands together and cackled. "Janus, whenever you make eye contact with Malon you will scream at the top of your voice, 'I want a pillow sandwich'. You will comply. You will now sleep and dream of Talon beating you with a stick."

As Janus' breaths eased into a more natural rhythm, Link stood up and handed the salve jar to Sheik. "Suggestion wears off after a day or two, but that's enough to see some funny behaviour. I'll take that side of the room and we'll meet in the middle."

The floors squeaked as Link tiptoed away, and Sheik contemplated the salve jar before kneeling at the next soldier and applying a bit under his nose.

She watched the soldier's still form silently for a minute. Of all the questions to ask, Link chose sandwiches and pillows…

"Do you believe in this war?" She raised a hand to her mouth. She didn't actually mean to-

"Yes."

Oh. Well. "Do you believe we will win?"

"Yes."

"Do you believe in your king?"

"No."

She fell silent again. She could hear Link giving a command about socks and bean sprouts across the room. A soldier who believed in the war but not in his king…

"Who do you believe should rule?"

"General Starhill."

Not all the soldiers she interviewed trusted her father. While the majority believed in the king, some mentioned other names and it was those that worried her. The most common names belonged to Commanding General Starhill and the Trade Minister Clayton.

When they left the next morning, Sheik didn't pay attention to the random screaming matches that erupted. Link asked some question or another but she didn't listen. There was a lot for her to think about.

_-S-_

"Observe! The giant statues of the Colossus! The pillars that defy the law of the sky! The architecture that remains unblemished from decades of sandstorms! The Spirit Temple!"

Link spread his arms to open himself to the majesty of the desert temple. Sheik wasn't as interested though, focussing her attention on him instead.

"Are you alright-"

"The Spirit Temple!" He interjected loudly.

"You've got arrows sticking out your back-"

"Spirit Temple!"

Sighing, she turned to face the entrance as he walked in. She couldn't help but look at the three arrows sticking at odd angles from Link's back though.

Apparently Link's ticket from Nabooru didn't read 'please let this green sexy beast past unhindered and unquestioned' as he was led to believe, but rather 'five hundred rupees for taking this moron dead, my blanket for capturing him alive'.

There had been a moment of awkward standing after the gate guard read the ticket out aloud, followed by a mad sprint through the Gerudo Fortress as women chased them with brandished weapons.

She couldn't help but get entranced by the protrusions from his back. "Are you really alright?"

Link sighed and arched to pull one arrow out. He licked the tip and nodded. "If they really wanted to kill me they'd have coated this in poison and I'd be twitching on the ground. They're only coated with a sedative, mostly harmless." His eyes crossed and he smiled crookedly. "Feels pretty good actually."

A sedative is it. Nabooru must have a really nice blanket.

"I've met Nabooru in passing before and she appeared a very diplomatic woman. What did you do to make her-"

"Oh look," Link interjected again, "a row of Iron Knuckle statues! What replicas! What realism!"

Sheik looked at the row of armour sets lining the wall before turning back to Link. Each one grasped a different weapon across their chests, each weapon sharing the theme of looking very heavy. "And how come you never read the note she wrote before-"

"You know," he mused loudly, "if these were real Iron Knuckles you wouldn't do this." Picking up a loose rock, he skipped it across the floor to have it clatter against the greaves of the nearest statue.

He frowned when the stone bounced off without effect. Walking up close to the statue, he craned his neck to peer into its empty helmet. Carefully, he extended one palm and touched the breastplate.

Nothing happened.

Frowning in consternation, he placed both hands and pushed. Planting his feet he thrust with all his strength, and smiled triumphantly when he rocked it off its feet.

That smile faded when the statue toppled back to crash against the statue behind, which teetered before falling backwards.

The continuous clap of metal smacking against metal echoed as two dozen statues fell over along the wall.

Sheik froze as she felt ancient magics swell up from the ground and walls, a dark smoke that wafted and circulated around each set of armour. She could see the magic coalesce and take form, forging bone and sinew under steel.

"Link-"

"Thank goodness those were just statues," Link breathed a sigh of relief, "wow, do you know how much trouble we'd be in if they weren't?"

A pulse. Twenty four simultaneous heartbeats resonated within their cages. "No, Link, these are-"

"I mean, I can take on two, no sweat. But a whole company? Ha, ha-"

A low wail filled the room. Joints screeched as magic fought against centuries of rust. Link and Sheik watched with morbid horror as all twenty four statues climbed to their feet.

Magic swirled and thrummed, and Sheik could feel the bloodlust soaking the air.

Link exhaled, grabbed Sheiks arm and sprinted right past them into the next hallway.

Stone screamed and groaned under the heavy footsteps of the following Iron Knuckles.

_-S-_

"Have you ever thought of joining the army, Link?"

He twisted around to look at her before turning back. "Now's not quite the time for questions, Sheik."

Twenty metres below them the ground rumbled to the steps of the patrolling Iron Knuckles.

"Now's not the time to be crawling along rafters, but here we are." They froze as the wooden beam creaked under their weight, and very slowly they crawled in reverse back to the junction.

A Skulltulla hissed as it leapt from above for Link's neck. He raised a hand and swatted it out of the air.

Before it could touch the ground below a broadsword sliced it in two. The Iron Knuckle stood over the spider's carapace before returning to its patrolling path.

Link peered down and shuddered. "Fine. No, army life's not one for me. Taking orders, marching, doing drills, it's all meaningless to me." Having backtracked enough, he turned to shuffle along another rafter beam.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing, fighting in these wars?"

Another Skulltulla flung itself at him, another batted bug and another sliced carcass on the ground. The Iron Knuckle pulled its halberd from the splintered stone before walking away.

"I don't know who started which war and I think it's dumb that any of them did. But now that they've begun, I believe that we have to end them." He looked down again, and it seemed like the Iron Knuckle patrol patterns had translated in the same direction he was going.

Sheik's next question came out more hesitant. "Do you believe in your king?"

Link twisted back to make sure Sheik could see his raised eyebrow. "Why are you so inquisitive? I believe in an ideal, not an individual." Looking down, he cursed. "And those steel monkeys can't even twist their necks to look up, so by Farore how are they following us?"

Another Skulltulla swooped down, but instead of attacking Link it leapt towards Sheik. She raised her arm and its fangs tore through the leather guard into her flesh. Crying out she swung wildly, smacking its skull faced shell against the wooden beam.

She felt the bite of its legs digging into her arm. It snarled and curled its head towards her. In horror she realised it was preparing to leap for her face.

Screaming in fright she raised her other hand and arched back. There was the flare of its venom coursing in her palm. There was the sting of its momentum smashing against her jaw.

There was the eternal moment of weightlessness. She could see Link's panicked face receding into the shadowed rafters. She could hear the air flow around her falling form.

She could feel the raw anticipation of the Iron Knuckles below.

Twenty metres was a large distance to fall. The nearest Iron Knuckle tightened its grip on its double sided axe.

She watched the rising edge with sick fascination. All she could think about was how much she hated Impa right then.

Two arms grabbed her roughly around the torso and the wave of Link's hair blocked her vision. He kneed her legs painfully as he rotated their bodies to fall feet first. Between his locks of hair she saw him extend a foot to meet the axe.

Impossibly his boot made firm contact with the flat side. Her stomach lurched as he sprung off, their bodies careening away from the axe.

Sheik was still dazed from the shocks of them skidding across the dusty floor. Link immediately rolled to his feet, tore the Skulltulla from her hand and unsheathed his sword.

The Iron Knuckles shifted to form a circle around them.

"Get up. Can you feel your fingers?"

Sheik staggered to her feet. Blood dripped freely from the bitten areas. Everything elbow up felt numb.

He grabbed her and threw her back down, twisting to avoid a spear thrust. Lashing out his sword managed to clip the Iron Knuckle's extended wrist. It bellowed as plating snapped off.

He yanked at Sheik again to pull her away from the slash of a broadsword, and again to throw them beneath the side swing of a spiked mace. Both times his sword flashed, chipping away at the armour.

He lunged away from the crowd of Iron Knuckles. "I'm getting nowhere," he panted, "is there anything you can do to improve our chances of not dying?"

Sheik saw the miasma of dark magic billowing from the cracks Link made in their armour. It wrapped around each Iron Knuckle like ethereal veils.

"Get them in a line," she managed to cough.

Link dropped his sword to allow for one armed handsprings as he clutched Sheik closely. Being thrown around like a rag doll made it very hard to concentrate. She closed her eyes so as to not see the flashing steel and near misses of the Iron Knuckles.

All warlocks had an affinity for certain flavours of magic, being able command wonders with one flavour and being hopelessly incompetent in all the rest. Everyone who was identified as possessing magical talent was trained in the basics of all the elements to determine which one they held an affinity for.

Sheik struggled to keep the basic training in mind. Gritting her teeth, she flooded her left arm with light magic and her right with spirit magic. It took all her focus to prevent these high concentrations from mixing.

Magic rarely ever appears in just one flavour, more commonly appearing in a mix of two or three. The magic that shrouded the Iron Knuckles was predominantly spirit magic with hues of shadow magic.

Her concentration almost faltered when they smacked bodily against a wall in an effort to dodge a sword thrust. Link leapt backwards and the Iron Knuckles followed.

"They're in a line," he yelled, cart wheeling back – she felt disoriented as walls gave way to rafters to floor to walls – and staggering away from a swing, "now what?"

Sheik's arms throbbed. Her body felt like it was going to be crushed under the pressure the two magics were creating. She inhaled. "Now get me close."

Weaving, Link kicked aside one axe swing and lunged towards the nearest Iron Knuckle. Screaming in pain and desperation, Sheik thrust both arms forwards to clutch the steel breastplate and released her hold on the magic.

The spirit magic burst free and immediately polarised the magic within the steel armour. Light magic discharged around the outside of the armour, bathing it in a purifying white glow.

There was a moment of great satisfaction when light and spirit arced, crushing the steel frame into a condensed lump and then hurtling it like a cannonball away from Sheik's arms.

It tore through the lined Iron Knuckles as if they were paper cut outs. The ambient magic ignited and burned through the steel shells.

All that remained were the flaming husks of the Iron Knuckles' weapons and a giant puncture through two metres of stone walling.

Link unceremoniously dropped Sheik and peered through the hole in the wall. Surviving Skulltullas in the room over were attempting to repair their horribly mangled nest.

He crouched down and rolled Sheik over so she was facing upwards. Her eyes were tense with an amount of pain he could only imagine. Her arms weren't bleeding; the magic discharge cauterised those injuries shut.

He stroked his imaginary beard as he contemplated her wracked form. "This wouldn't have been a problem if you knew how to deal with flying Skulltullas, you know."

Sheik's eyes darted over and she stared at him hard. Her breaths came short with all the pain and incredulous fury she felt. "I. Don't. Believe. You."

He chuckled sheepishly and walked away to pick up his dropped sword. "Well, no harm, no foul. I forgive you." He could feel her glare burning into his back. "So, let's sit down, rest for a while, and have a pleasant, non accusatory conversation that doesn't lead to me pushing over another row of Iron Knuckles, yes?"

Impa thought Zelda would be safer with Link. Hah. Oh Impa, Sheik thought, you don't know how wrong you are.

_-S-_

She didn't know how Link managed to hold so many items in his pouch, but she was grateful for the potions and salves he carried along. The injuries on her arms were rubbed with an ointment and freshly bandaged, and drinking his red potion eased the pain from her crude use of magic.

Underneath her cowl she smiled as she wiggled her fingers. Never had she enjoyed the ability to do so as much as she did now.

They had relocated to another room further from the Skulltulla nest. Sheik had no idea how Link had the energy needed to dispatch the three Lizalfos that had made the room home, but he declared the room as safe a place as any to stop and rest, claiming the scent of the Lizalfos would keep the lesser creatures away. The lanterns in the room were maintained by the power that thrummed through the structure, casting a yellow glow to the stone.

Link and Sheik sat on opposite sides of a monument to the Gerudo Colossus, a giant stone carving of a woman wearing a cobra's hide. Link was inspecting his sword for nicks and kept tutting as he ran a finger over the edges.

"Malon thinks you have a gambling problem, you know."

Link looked up from his inspection to meet Sheik's red eyes. "Treasure hunting's one giant gamble, she's not far off."

"When you're with Malon, what does she see?"

He cocked his head in askance. "Other than my raw, irresistible sex appeal? I don't know what you're asking about."

"A lot of what I'm saying is conjecture, since I've only seen you two interact for an afternoon." Sheik gestured towards his sword. "She knows you carry a sword, but she doesn't see the man who can cleave a Lizalfos down its skull. She knows you disappear for times, but she doesn't see the places you go to, the dangers you face. You keep a lot hidden from her, and I'm interested in knowing what of you that you let her see."

He scratched his jaw and sheathed his sword. "You've got good eyes there, Sheik." He reclined back against the big toe of the Colossus. "We've known each other for seven years, so she sees her bumbling childhood friend. A silly and reckless boy, but mostly harmless. And hey, she's happy, so this silly and reckless boy can stay silly and reckless." He leaned forward to look her in the eye. "If you don't mind, she doesn't need to see anything else."

Sheik knew to relent. If she pushed further Link would have them chase down another army of Iron Knuckles. Changing topic she asked, "So why are we here?"

His serious air disappeared for one brimming with childish glee. "Now, I'm so glad you asked! Hidden deep within the labyrinths of the Spirit Temple is a mystical pair of gauntlets that grant immeasurable strength to the wearer. The Gerudo haven't ventured past the main foyer of the Spirit Temple and so haven't been able to reclaim them." He rubbed his hands together. "Can you guess how much they'll pay for the return of this treasure?"

"Did they commission you to reclaim this treasure?"

"Well, no, but they can do that when we return."

"What if they don't want it, and accuse you of theft?"

"Well, I'll just talk to Nabooru, she'll help smooth things over."

"This is the same Nabooru who wrote that note for capturing you dead or alive?"

Link stood up and stretched. "Well, I think we're in good shape to delve deeper into the heart of this temple. Come, partner! Time waits for no one!"

_-S-_

Generally all secret treasures have some secret guardian hulking around, as Link explained to Sheik. It made sure only the strong, the worthy, could even dare to stand before some of the greatest creations of men.

It was also the Goddesses way of showing their sense of humour and the irony of life.

Standing guard in front of the door to the next room was the still form of a giant Iron Knuckle. Unlike the ones that lined the walls before, this one towered at three metres and wielded proportionally massive scimitars in each gauntlet.

Other than the new and improved guardian, the room was much as Link remembered it to be: slits high above let in sunlight and fresh air, the arched ceiling supported by numerous pillars and flying buttresses. There was a religious quality to the room, the path of white marble branching to altars yellowed with age, with the main path following on straight to pass underneath the solitary guardian.

He turned to face Sheik. "You wouldn't be able to do your cannonball move of ultimate destruction again, would you?"

In response she raised her bandaged arms.

Link clucked in disappointment. "Alright then. I'd rather that you have more training then I gave you, but are you feeling up to swinging around a longsword?"

Again, she waved her bandaged arms.

He tsked again. "Well, you did knock out all those Iron Knuckles earlier. I guess it's time I do some of the fighting." He pulled out his sword and examined its edge once more. "You know, in gratitude for returning the Megaton Hammer to the Goron tribes, they forged me a really nice sword. It is a fine blade, with only one imperfection."

Sheik stepped closer to examine his sword. It looked like it was made with conventional practices. "Oh?"

"It's big and heavy and so I left it there, now all I carry is this cheap garbage." He flicked the edge. "Look how easily it nicks." He sighed and squinted at the figure in the distance. "But giants like those can't move very fast, so this will be more than enough."

He could really appreciate its size as he walked up to it. Unlike the other Iron Knuckles this one was unblemished by rust, the steel and silver that made its form shining brightly under the windowed sunlight.

He crouched to pick up a stone-

And immediately backpedalled to avoid a scimitar slash. The tip caught a link in his chainmail and raked a thin gash across his chest.

"Hey, you're not meant to wake up yet!" He dived behind a pillar to dodge its follow up swing. Belatedly he realised how easily the supports crumpled under an Iron Knuckle attack and managed to scrabble away before the pillar collapsed behind him.

"And you're meant to be slow and stupid!" He attempted to roll underneath it; it lowered one knee and barely missed kicking him. "This," he threw himself flush against the ground to dodge a horizontal stroke, "isn't," a vertical strike missed him when he rolled aside, "fair!"

Hopping to his feet he dashed behind the next pillar, hoping to buy a moment. "Seriously Sheik, cannon move of easy win would be pretty damn helpful around now!"

"Watch left!" she shouted back. He darted right in time to escape being cleaved in half. "And I can't! It has too much volume, I can't control the amount of magic needed to crush its frame!"

"Can I cook it?"

"What?"

"If I try to melt it, would it blow up on me?"

She remembered the spark of magic he used to light the incense. "Spirit and fire is not volatile!"

Hopping back a few metres, Link grinned. "I guess that means no."

Without the surprise of its premature awakening, Link was more nimbly dodging its swings. Dancing around its blades, he watched for the opportunity to dash close to its body.

Wind whooshed past when it swung in a cross slash, leaving both blades gripped high above the Iron Knuckles head.

There. His legs tensed and he burst forward, biting off one glove to expose his right hand.

It crouched and dropped one elbow. Link marvelled how its stance was a perfect mirror of the Gerudo spin.

Oh. Oh dear.

Link managed to get his sword in the way as it blasted into him. Steel creaked as its first swing threw him into the air. The second swing smashed him through one pillar and he smacked bodily against the far wall.

Sheik dashed over as he crumpled to the floor. "Are you alright?"

Link coughed and tried to roll to his feet. "That thing," he croaked, "is cheating." Staggering up, he frowned at the fractures drawn along the base of his blade. "This isn't fair."

He hobbled aside as the Iron Knuckle charged forth, using the winds of its strikes to help buffet him away from the scimitars' edges. He felt like a drunk fighting a giant. He weaved past its blades as he slowly led it back to the open area.

"Come on, you stupid monkey," he whispered, "you know you want to."

The moment came. The Iron Knuckle performed the same cross slash, and Link leapt in once more. It crouched and Link raised his sword in preparation.

The first swing hurled him into the air again, the force shattering his blade at the base. But before the second strike could cleave him into the ground, he curled in his legs and ricocheted off the whooshing blade towards the Iron Knuckles helmet.

Sticking one hand into the helmet's visor to arrest his fall, he planted the palm of his other hand in the crack between the base of the helmet and the steel neck collar. Magic hummed along his fingers as he drew up every ounce of magic he could.

"O Goddess of Power, don't fail me now."

It had been seven years since he last used Din's Fire to its ultimate destructive capabilities. It was weak, regrettably so, but for now it was enough. The steel enclosure acted as an oven as the Iron Knuckle baked from the inside.

Flames licked free from the joints and openings. The steel smouldered and glowed and the silver ornamentation started boiling off. The Iron Knuckle swayed in a desperate struggle before falling to its knees. Above the roar of the fire a wail screamed loose as the magic holding the Iron Knuckle was extinguished.

Link did not stop until the entire thing was nothing more than a lump of bubbling steel before him.

_-S-_

"So, where is it?"

"That's… a good question."

They were standing on a platform above the Spirit Temple. Well, Sheik was standing and Link was leaning heavily against her for support. He looked around and was disappointed to see nothing more than clouds.

"Are you sure it's here?"

"There was the whole guardian thing, and the gauntlets are indestructible. I can't think of anywhere else it'd be." He peered over one ledge before leaning back. Wow, what a fall.

"What do they look like?"

"They normally come in some oversized wooden chest, but they're silver gauntlets and look exactly like they're named. Gauntlets made of silver."

"Huh." Sheik stayed silent for a minute. "The guardian was wearing silver plated gauntlets."

Link looked at Sheik. Sheik shrugged.

He looked back to where they came from. The molten Iron Knuckle still glowed red from the heat.

He sighed.

_-S-_

They stayed the night in the same room, waiting for the sandstorm below to finish venting its fury. Link managed to fish out the silver gauntlets from the molten pile only to curse when he realised they were still sized for three metre tall giants.

Sheik was pretty sure Link broke a few bones flying through pillars and falling those distances, but he was resolute in his boast that a night's worth of rest will repair everything. After fishing out some salted cod from his boot – she declined his offer to share – he rolled off in search of the coolest stone surface.

Three hours later Sheik woke up when he rolled back, searching for the warmest spot.

The moon and starlight revealed Link in a manner impossible when he was awake. Seeing his huddled sleeping form she realised how young he was. As young has her, but infinitely more experienced. No soldier could perform the feats he could. And yet for all the miracles and feats of strengths he could perform, asleep he looked like a simple boy.

A soft wind blew through the apertures and Link shuffled closer. Sheik's eyes crossed and she shuffled away.

Oh Nayru he smelled terrible.

With trepidation she raised an arm and sniffed herself.

When they left the coming morning, Sheik declared that one of the first things they'll do is clean themselves.

"Once we get one of those witches to tell us how to resize these gauntlets, we can wallow in all the water we want." The gauntlets in question were tied together with twine and were being dragged through the sand behind him. "Now hopefully everyone's forgotten about the whole capture Link thing."

The Gerudo uncharacteristically were not manning their posts, instead huddling and chatting excitedly in the central training square. They did not seem remotely interested in Link's appearance.

"Oi, Link," a voice called out from the centre of the hubbub, and he looked up to see Nabooru waving out to him. One arm was in a sling and she had bandaging wrapping her left thigh and abdomen. Her horse showed visible relief when she hopped off and happily let itself be led to a water trough.

"Sweet Din, Nabooru," he replied as she walked towards them, "did you get into a fight with a bear or something?"

"You chose a good time to leave Castletown," she said, "the Shuwans made another raid on the palace. There was a whole friggin' horde and I had to fight my way out of the diplomats' quarters." She turned to give an irate look at her sisters. "And would someone get me some medicine and water? I've been riding the whole friggin' night to deliver this news!"

"What happened in the palace?" Sheik strode forward and placed one hand on Nabooru's good one.

She jerked her hand back and looked at Sheik suspiciously. "And who're you?"

"Ah, that's Sheik," Link provided, "Princess Zelda's bodyguard in training."

Nabooru snorted. "Oh. Well son, you definitely have your work cut out for you. When I left, a third of the palace was on fire, the King was missing and presumed dead, the Princess was missing and presumed dead, and boat load of nobles who couldn't escape are plain dead." She snatched the cup offered by her sister and drank it greedily. "I haven't seen little Zelda in a while, so maybe she wasn't in the palace during the attack, but the King was definitely around and chances are his was the first room the Shuwans went to."

Link put out an arm to prevent Sheik from staggering too far back.

"This… is not good. Don't you have any good news?"

Nabooru glanced at the silver gauntlets dragged behind him. "I know the trick behind those," she grunted.

Sheik inhaled and stood straighter. Her voice was soft but firm. "I'm going to Castletown."

"Yes, we're going to – no, no we're not. In fact we're running the hell away, some safer direction like-"

It had been a long time since Link had seen a commanding strength in Zelda's eyes, but as she faced him he could feel the finality and purpose as her red eyes bore against his.

"We all have a duty to attend to." It was barely above a whisper, but even the chatter of the surrounding Gerudo died down as they listened. "My duty to our country demands I guard the safety of the people. But someone has cast his duty aside and sacrificed this country for a gain I will never know, a gain I refuse to understand. My duty demands I find him." She inhaled, and Link could hear the small tremor that revealed the fear beneath her conviction. "Link, I cannot demand anything from you. So I ask you, in the name of Hyrule, to help me discover the truth."

Link smiled. "In the name of Hyrule," he agreed.

_Missing, and presumed dead_…

There were many men who would have gained from the death of her and her father. The first one Zelda intended to investigate was Commanding General Starhill.

_-S-_

A/N: And there you have it, chapter 2. Two years delayed. Yeah. I hope you enjoyed it. Part of my design principal involves making this story as zany as possible, but given the setting we'll have to put up with a good number of serious moments.


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